The strings that bind us
by hiddendaisy1821
Summary: Matt Murdock, the man without fear. Well, he felt afraid now. Felt his every mistake on his body, and was afraid that a few more days like this and he won't be able to do this. Feared that one day Foggy or Karen will end up in the cross hairs of all of this and he won't be able to do a damn thing about it.


**Title** : The strings that bind us together

 **AN** : What it means to be a hero.

 **Fandom** : Daredevil

The coffee was getting cold on his table, a small screen in front of him the only thing that illuminated the room. The place looked like a well-worn shoe, comfy and stretched out with old memorabilia scattered around for no one to see.

It looked tired, as the owner himself.

The papers, documents, notes and small cliff notes were everywhere and it told of another time, one that today was long forgotten. But in many ways he still lived in it. He still thrived in the simplicity and the knowledge that not too many years ago he had a career and a place where he belonged. Now, all that was left of this place was this simple room, reminding him that he was a relic among titans.

He glanced at the screen for what seemed like a hundredth time, his eyes burning and he felt the fatigue just taking a place in his mind, forbidding any coherent thought to be made. Still, it irked him. Maybe there was something he could've done better, were he younger but now the stale scent of cigarettes and cheap bourbon was what kept him going.

He had spent a lot of time, years in this business, in journalism and it left him with a sense of loss and helplessness he didn't want to feel. The work was full of villains, bad people doing even worse things to get themselves on top and he quickly figured out that he didn't have the power to change it. Now more than ever he knew that often not even the simplest of things worked - like writing the truth.

It used to mean something, it used to stand for something, as did he.

Now he stood for what all the people always thought of the media, a shadow of its former self, someone unable to tell the truth if it fell in their laps and smacked them in the head with it.

Still, his eyes scanned the page and it gave him hope.

 _Masked vigilante saves a boy from kidnappers._

It was unknown and it intrigued him to no end. The simple title obviously masked the real truth. In Hell's kitchen there is no such a thing as a simple kidnapping. You'll wind up in a body bag before you will ever be worth the headache of being kidnapped, which led him to believe that there were some big fish in the play here.

The vigilante, on the other hand, is what intrigued him so much. A person who wanted to fight for what's right. It seemed like such an old fashioned concept. He inhaled and in the next moment felt the soothing feeling that a cheap cigarette gave him.

He was an old fashioned reporter.

He lived his whole life in Hell's kitchen fighting to tell the truth and was unable to make a dent in the web that criminals spun. Yet, here comes a simple man who had grown tired of seeing it and decided to do something about it.

The man was without fear if there is any truth to what police said about some criminals here. Now, the question was, will he lend him a hand?

He placed a card on his small board and a question mark next to it. There were too many unknowns, but his gut was telling him to do the right thing. Maybe he too, should try and help someone.

He glanced at the piece of paper that held a number on it. He took a swing of bourbon. If he did this, there would be no going back and maybe he would die in the process, but damn it if he wasn't tired of sitting on the sidelines.

He took his phone and dialed the number.

"Hello?" a timid answer came from the other end.

"Is this Karen I'm speaking with?"

"Yes."

Ah so he didn't forget the name. Good, maybe he could still do this.

"This is Ben, the reporter you contacted earlier regarding a recently publicized case."

He could almost hear the relief in her voice. In that moment he knew he was doing the right thing, no matter what it cost him.

"Ben, I was trying to reach you before but the office said you were out and I really needed someone I could turn to with this."

She continued as she explained the ever growing web of conspiracy and cover ups. He took a deep breath, let the smoke fill his lungs and release it all out.

"Now listen carefully Karen. If we are going to do this, we have to be very careful. Be really cautious of stones you turn and who you talk to. So we do it my way or I walk."

On the other end there was only silence. Maybe he scared her off.

"Okay?" he asked in a cautious manner. Her resolve needed to be absolute if they were going to do this, no kid gloves this time.

"Okay Ben."

The voice sounded sure, strong and he realized that just maybe he was in over his head, but for once he wanted the truth, to be some he could be proud of. This neighborhood deserved a break. They all did.

"Meet me at my office in half an hour."

With that he hung up the phone and took his coat. He had rolled the dice, what he will get from it is entirely up to them. They had a job to do and this time they will do it right. He glanced at another title on the paper.

 _Who is the man in the mask? Another villain or a hero?_

He let himself out of the apartment. The newspapers may ask, but he could already guess which. Now it was time to work for a living.

-oo-

Every moment since that day she lived in fear. Not the fear of certain things, of not being good enough or simply fear of failure or accidents but a fear of not mattering. That she had done things in life but they never mattered, not in a grand scheme of things.

So she found a surprise rescuers in Foggy and Matt. It still surprised her when she thought about her situation at the time and their willingness to help so quickly. Not only help, but offer her a job, a goal and a purpose. Offer her a home and a family, a tad dysfunctional but a family nonetheless.

But there were some things she couldn't share with them, the constant fear of feeling like she was just going through the motions and not doing enough to matter. She was sometimes afraid that they would see her true self and reject her, leave her on her own.

Most of the people in her life walked away and it would be nothing new, but this time it would hurt. It would hurt, because those boys mattered to her, and their small business that prides itself on doing the right thing and defending the innocent. She was proud of what they were doing and hoped that somehow someone in a dire need, like she was that day, will be fortunate enough to come across her boys.

As they couldn't do much now, she felt that she needed to do more and so she dug around in her case. She searched all over for the facts and information, combing every nook and cranny to find that something that was missing and maybe reveal more about the man behind the curtain.

It drove her forward so much, the need to never feel that weak again, never feel hopeless. The constant tremors that come at night were not something she would associate with being strong and now her life was slowly spinning out of control. The only way to find a meaning was to finally move forward and do something. And that something had to be the case that broke her. That left her with these…tremors.

She started by reaching out to some people and many didn't return her calls. Now, she just wanted to keep it away from Foggy and Matt, because she knew that they would tell her to stop digging before she got herself hurt and then probably do it on their own.

And then they would've gotten into trouble and she really didn't want them to, after they've helped her so much. Still, she was slowly losing hope, with no one wanting to reach out and help. She never knew how deep the web of darkness was spun here and now it seemed like the violent storm just waiting to break out and swallow them whole.

She wasn't going to let that happen, not this time. She had seen good in this place and seen people care for others. She had seen it in her friends and she had seen it in him. She traced the letters on the cover of the newspaper on her lap.

 _Masked vigilante saves a boy from kidnappers._

The man who saved her and honestly kicks ass in her opinion. He, more than anyone else, motivated her to do better. It is not like she wasn't inspired by her friends. Foggy, if anyone could be salt of the earth it would be him. Just generally funny and good, always looked out for her.

Matt was something else.

He was blind, that she knew and yet somehow she could've sworn that he saw more than they did. It was really creepy sometimes. Also, she felt there was more to him than meets the eye. Also, he took her case and gave her a job. Well, Foggy did too. Her guardian angels. Unlike Foggy, she could see this darkness in Matt. She was afraid sometimes when she saw him lost in though and she was almost certain that none of those thoughts were about puppies. She could see it on his face, how haggard and run down from everything he could sometimes be.

One of the things she really liked about Foggy was that he was open and honest, sharing his history and his stories with her. Matt was different. She felt like there was always something he wasn't saying but the lack of eye contact was making it hard for her to judge and decide if there was more to it.

She would like to find out. Just like she would like to find out about the man in the mask.

 _Who is the man in the mask? Another villain or a hero? t_ he other title said and she couldn't help but frown at their need to crucify him. She wanted to know but she wasn't sure that the whole world was ready for that. Sure they had seen aliens invade and seen Avengers rise to the cause and keep them safe, but not all heroes were so out there. There are the ones who protect the things they hold dear - not the world but a home. Hell's kitchen was their home and she wanted to help protect it and defend it in any way she can. Just like the man in the mask.

She knew what was right and if the people judged her otherwise then so be it. Suddenly her phone rang and she scrambled to answer. Number didn't look familiar.

"Hello?"

She didn't want to sound so uncertain but sometimes it just happened and after her little brain-storming she couldn't help it anyway.

"Is this Karen I'm speaking with?"

It was strange because before she would have no problem responding but now giving some stranger her name made her timid. She inwardly groaned, what she needed to do was stop acting like every shadow was going to jump at her.

"Yes."

She thought she heard a sigh, but maybe it was her own shallow breath.

"This is Ben, the reporter you contacted earlier regarding a recently publicized case."

A quick flash in her memory when she went to his office in search for him. She read up on him and he appeared to be the most reliable source to do this with her. Suddenly her thoughts began to race. This was really happening. She was doing this.

"Ben, I was trying to reach you before but the office said you were out and I really needed someone I could turn to with this."

She didn't trust anyone with this, but she felt like he was the right person to talk to. It was enough time spent wondering - now it was time to deal.

"I had managed to dig through some paper and talked to some people. This was something somebody wanted to bury and me along with it."

He interrupted her in the next moment.

"Now listen carefully Karen. If we are going to do this, we have to be very careful, be really cautious of stones you turn and who you talk to. We do it my way or I walk."

He sounded certain and she knew that this was the one thing he isn't going to budge on. Maybe it was better that way. She already felt like this was way over her head and she needed to do this right. She need some sort of closure and she needed to know. She needed to understand otherwise she won't be able to find sleep in the near future.

"Okay? he asked her and she could almost feel like he was closing off and if she wanted to do this it needed to happen now.

Taking a deep breath she answered, "Okay Ben."

She hoped it sounded as resolved as she felt, because right now she needed it.

"Meet me at my office in half an hour." It was all he said before the line went dead. That was fine with her as she gathered her stuff and headed out for the door. Things were finally moving. It didn't need to be a big start but it was something she could work with.

She wanted to help like her friends did, but she wanted to make the kind of a difference the man in the mask did. This was the only way she knew how and now maybe she can find out if she was cut out for this kind of work.

Otherwise, it would be more quivers and more sleepless nights and she didn't want that anymore. So with a soft but firm hand she closed the door behind her and made her way to Ben.

-oo-

The place was looking up. He had to say the small details that she placed around the office made it look much better than what he and Matt had imagined. Really, decoration wasn't their go to thing. Most of the decorating they've done was from the IKEA catalog.

Now he really felt like they were all really committing to this thing. He thought that Matt was wrong at first to be doing this, but he first hand knows how right he was. It somehow irritated him how well adjusted he was for a blind guy.

Really it was like the man had better self-awareness than he did. Not that he would ever tell him that. He knew about Matt and his past, it wasn't something to be taken lightly and he never would. But he also thought that Matt liked it that he didn't treat him any differently. In his opinion most people wouldn't if they ever took a chance to get to know the guy.

He had a resolve that Foggy couldn't quite understand and truth be told he was afraid to ask. He glanced at the same stack of papers on his table and he really would get back to that but he gets distracted by the newspaper headline staring at him from the other side of the desk.

 _Masked vigilante saves a boy from kidnappers._

This guy again. It really irritated him, this man who had started popping up in the last couple of months everywhere it seems. He understood and had the need to do right and try to protect people but a man who wore a mask to hide from the people didn't sit well with him.

Sure he had read about the good, heard it in the local bars as people praised or even shunned his name in their chats. He was not convinced and even now he couldn't put his two cents on whether the man was good or bad.

Placing the paper back on the table, he felt the need to ask Matt for his opinion, because as far as he could remember he never really gave him a clear opinion on this matter. He knew where Karen stood when it came to that man, he has saved her life after all. And sometimes he wants to believe the good he's done, but he isn't a lawyer for nothing and he just knows that things are rarely black and white. They live in the shades of gray.

 _Who is the man in the mask? Another villain or a hero?_

The ringing of the phone was followed by now familiar beeping. Matt was always unavailable these days. He felt like his best friend was hiding and changing in front of his eyes as he just couldn't look at him and claim to know him like he did before.

Karen would always ask him questions about Matt and he found himself without an answer most of the time. The two of them often went for drinks and found themselves missing his friend and it always left a nagging feeling that there was something important he wasn't saying. He could feel that he was missing something but damn it if his friend didn't scare him sometimes.

At some moments he was more perceptive and aware than any human being had a right to be and as much as he would like to chalk it up to his imagination, he knew there was more to it.

Now, being with them in this office inspired him like Matt did in their college days. He was inspired to help and do good maybe even do something that would impact their little small neighborhood.

He liked Hell's kitchen, knew the place inside out. Now he would like to help the community which he had witnessed in struggle for such a long time, but now he couldn't do much. He knows he has to wait for the opportune moment for their little business to take off and then to be of more use to the Hell's kitchen and its residents.

He hopes it won't take too long.

He called Matt once more and it went straight to voicemail.

"Hey man, was just checking up on you. My fellow avocado. I'm thinking of hitting the bar after office hours and maybe you can join in. Karen will be there, so it wouldn't be nice if again you are the odd one out. Besides that girl won't resist my charm for too long and you know I am not ready for a torrid office affair. So give me a call Matt."

The beep told him he was done talking and he tossed his phone on the table. He looked at the clock and then at the always pilling mountain of paperwork.

"Well if they are slacking off today, doesn't mean I have to."

He rolled his sleeves up and went to work. Sure, some people dream big but to make a difference you got to start from somewhere. He will prove that the pen is mightier than the sword.

-oo-

The thud from the cabinet jolted him back to reality. He heard the ringing of his phone before he heard the familiar name - Foggy and it only served as a reminder that and he wasn't being a good friend. No, he really wasn't much of a friend lately.

He took the same old pills and felt his pain dull for a moment. He was running out of excuses to make his actions count. It still resided in his head, the moment he decided to do something about the injustice and change the way things were happening in his city.

The sound of sirens didn't frighten him anymore. He felt the excitement every time he heard the sound - the bloodlust rushing through his ears. The need to punish was strong and now he still felt the fresh bruises and cuts from his last outing, felt like his inner beast was tamed at least for the moment.

The pain was a familiar friend to him. He welcomed it gladly if it meant he could fight another day, make a difference. He padded barefoot across the floor and sat on the couch. He felt tired. There was only so many deep breaths you could take to hold it all in and move forward before you collapse and he was nearing his days quota.

He took his phone and played the voicemail.

" _Hey man, was just checking up on you. My fellow avocado. I'm thinking of hitting the bar after office hours and maybe you can join in. Karen will be there, so it wouldn't be nice if again you are the odd one out. Besides that girl won't resist my charm for too long and you know I am not ready for a torrid office affair. So give me a call Matt."_

His lips curved upwards at his friends antics. If he didn't know better he'd say Foggy had a thing for Karen. Well as long as he watches himself. He hissed as he tried to upright himself - obviously the ribs were more than bruised this time and maybe it would be good if he gave Claire a call.

Once more he was snapped back into reality. Claire didn't want him like this and he really didn't want to place her in any more danger than he already has. So as his dad used to say, it's all about getting back up. He had done it plenty of times.

He fears the emotional torment, not the physical strain. He can fight and he can take as many punches as it is necessary, but one disappointed tone out of his friends mouth is like a slap on the face of a worst sinner.

He sat on the floor and tried to meditate, his breathing shallow with every passing moment but he soldiered on. There was nothing more to it - he wanted to change the mindset of criminals here. The simple need was to suppress the criminal activity, but in the long run he wanted people to associate him with the fear of doing wrong, and the knowledge that if they chose so the punishment would come.

Sadly these days he felt like he as slipping, not really doing right by his friends and certainly not by the people he was trying to protect. Maybe he had rushed into this, or he wasn't prepared enough for it but he could feel it - the web of darkness spreading the more he fought. It felt futile in so many different ways and now it looked like all he had done and all he tried to stand for was nothing more than ash.

He felt like he was covered with it, from head to toe and it will stick with him like a badge of shame for the future, so everyone knows he had failed.

"No."

A simple whisper escaped him to clear his head. These negative thoughts always swirled in his head but he didn't need nor want them. He knew what he had to do. Everything else would just follow that action.

A hiss escaped him as he tried to adjust his back, he could smell the blood and it only reminded him he has failed once more. If he had trained harder, been more vigilant all that could've been avoided. Fate was often cruel, giving you just enough rope to hang yourself.

He felt the same way about his abilities. Trained and honed every aspect of his body from a young age and still not good enough to prevent these kinds of things from happening.

He wanted to make a difference.

For that he would run himself ragged if he had to. It doesn't matter how long it takes, someday it will be enough and if not than he will push even further.

The man without fear.

Well, he felt afraid now. Felt his every mistake on his body, and was afraid that a few more days like this and he won't be able to do this. Feared that one day Foggy or Karen will end up in the cross hairs of all of this and he won't be able to do a damn thing about it. Then it would all be for nothing. He played the voice message once more just to remind himself that it was still alright, he still had time to change things, to make things right.

He could hear them, suddenly, like every night. Sirens. Things did not sound good tonight and it was like every time he heard screams or desperate cries for help, this deep seated desire to act. Still, he remained seated, his meditative state unchanged.

When he was younger, he used to jump at every sound and every crack. Now he had grown ignorant, as he did for most of thing in his life. Foggy was becoming a constant reminder of it. He was glad that at least their joint venture of becoming the great lawyers of Hell's kitchen hasn't changed. They were on course and he hopes they'll make it.

Still the sirens were heard, the distance too big between the frightened cry and the sound. He cringed when he heard a sound of bone breaking.

"You have to rest, you can't go out there." he muttered to himself but as another cry followed he had to grind his teeth in frustration. As much as he played a hero, his body just couldn't keep up with him. It was only human and now more than ever he was aware of that truth.

Another bang was heard and he knew that the culprit was running away, the cops would never catch him.

"Stay." he repeated in his head and no matter how many times he repeated it, it always resonated the same. Go and get out there. Do what you have trained to do.

Protect and instill fear into those who dare walk on the wrong side of the law.

The laughter followed as the man got away from the sirens, all he heard was paramedics trying to rush the victim to the hospital. Law has failed once more. He will not.

In the next moment he was running on rooftops tracking the man responsible. Following the sound of his voice and the smell of gunpowder, still strong on him. He will track him easily. The sting of his wounds was not present, just the grinding of his teeth as he tried to control his breathing through the pain. Okay, so maybe he was in hell. Still, didn't they say that the Murdock's have the devil in them? Now was a good time as any to prove them right. Also, good thing he had Claire on speed dial.

As he passed by a building, he heard a man read the newspaper title.

 _Who is the man in the mask? Another villain or a hero?_

Most of the time he wasn't sure himself, but for now he will just settle for trying to do what he felt was right and let the rest of the world judge his actions. And maybe at the end of the day he will be able to sleep soundly.

He was close now to the man who fled the crime scene. The guilty.

The man oozed fear as he came at him. He didn't see an injured man in a mask, barely able to keep himself upright, the man who gritted his teeth to just take another step. No, he saw the devil of Hell's kitchen.

He saw Daredevil.

(the end)


End file.
